


Impact

by CanisLuka



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Family Issues, M/M, figure skating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-15
Updated: 2014-12-15
Packaged: 2018-03-01 15:54:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2778977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CanisLuka/pseuds/CanisLuka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, the most important things will hit you the hardest. And just when you least expect them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Impact

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wyntera](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyntera/gifts).



            When you play hockey, you get accustomed to being hit a lot. At some point, you learn how to take it and keep going. You’re fine, you’ll be fine, and nothing is going to keep you from getting that shot.

            The realization knocked Jack down with the power of a freight train.

            It was a Saturday and the tidy up from last night’s party required nothing less than industrial grade floor cleaner and the strength of five unenthusiastic young men. All the drinking and screwing around always seemed like such harmless fun until the morning after. The boys of the Haus were simply soldiers dealing with the aftermath of the valiant effort to defend the right to party.

            Jack hadn’t even really been at this one, having spent most of the night researching for a paper whose due date had been looming over his shoulder for a while. He returned around 1:30 AM and immediately went to bed. However, not four hours later, here he was. Scraping something sticky off the floor.

            “You know, sometimes I feel like I’d rather just live in filth,” Holster quipped, shoving what seemed like the 100th plastic cup into his garbage bag. He handed it to Ransom, whose face suddenly lit up.

            “We could always call the frogs over to help.”

            “Yeah…” Shitty sat up from behind the couch and gave a smirk. “It’s never too early to start thinking about dibs.”

            “No, no, no!” Bittle’s voice erupted from the corner of the room. The blonde had been scrubbing some less-than-PG marker sketches off of the wall. He stood straight up, throwing his rag down and crossing his arms in disappointment.

            “We are not going to take advantage of them just because ya’ll are getting lazy. This is _our_ mess. _We_ are cleaning it.”

            Jack furrowed his brows, confused.

            “Why am I here then?”

            “Team Captain responsibilities,” Shitty replied. “’Thou shalt not leave thy fellow bro alone with the wreckage of his massive score of yesternight.’”

            Bittle rolled his eyes and turned back to his work. From the dark circles under his eyes and the uncharacteristic slouching, Jack could tell that the southerner hadn’t gotten much sleep either. Not to mention the crankiness. He was working just as hard as he ever would, though. It probably wasn’t in him to ever truly give up on something, even if he wanted to.

            “Bittle’s right,” Jack spoke up. “Let’s leave the freshmen alone for today. We can handle this ourselves.”

* * *

            A couple of hours later and Jack couldn’t wait to get on the ice. 

            His time alone on in the rink was incredibly important to him. He’d probably spent more time on it in his life than he had normal, solid ground. It was honestly just where he felt the most natural, the most at ease. He had never felt comfortable around other people, especially not at school. But when he started to move on the rink, other people didn’t matter any more. There were no more names or ages, just feelings. He wasn’t skating. He was flying.

            He pushed the glass doors to Faber open and made his way down the stretch of the hallway, the aging murals of hockey’s past guiding him to the ice. As he approached the rink itself, there seemed to be music playing and the lights were already all turned on.

             Stepping inside, Jack cast his eyes out to the figure spinning and gliding out on the ice. He had never seen Bittle figure skate before. Sure, he knew the other boy was fast and agile because of his past experience, but in no way was he prepared for this.

            By nature, Jack was a man of few words. So when confronted with the idea of having to describe the depth and beauty of what he was seeing—and all in his second language—it was hard to form coherent thoughts. It wouldn’t be right to simply say it was smooth or delicate. The word gentle came to mind, but that didn’t quite fit either. There was a strength to it that was unfamiliar. Something balanced deep in his core. Every move the blonde made flowed so freely from him, seeming almost like second nature. Confidence. That was the word he was looking for. Complete assurance that he knew what he was doing and would execute each move just so.

            Bittle started to spin quickly. He then lifted his leg up backwards, pivoting his torso down at the same time. However, as his head lifted back up, his eyes suddenly snapped over to Jack and direct eye contact was made. The skater’s face turned bright red. His leg wobbled forward, causing his balance to give way. Bittle’s knee was what slammed into the ice first, then the side of his face.

            “Bitty!” Jack was sent into a state of panic. He dropped everything that he was holding and rushed forward to help his teammate. It had only been a few months since the checking in their final game last year and Jack had seen what happens to players who get hit hard again so quickly after getting injured. He hadn’t had the time to put on his skates, loosening his grip on the rink and slowing him down some. When he finally reached him, Bittle was peeling himself off the surface of the ice as gracefully as you can after eating shit in front of someone you weren’t expecting to see there.

             “No, I’m fine! It’s fine… “ Bittle assured him. “My cheek kind of stings but my knee broke the fall…” He pressed his fingers down gently on the bump under his knee. Jack flinched at the sharp intake of breath that followed. Bittle just laughed weakly.

             “I’ve fallen down on that spot so many times it’s basically rock solid. It’ll bruise but I’ll live, don’t worry.”

             “We should probably get you over to the benches,” Jack sighed.

             They shuffled their way off the ice and into the stands, the younger boy using the other as a crutch. While shifting his weight onto the seat, there were some present groans coming from the blonde.

             “Are you sure you’re okay?” Jack asked, seating himself down next to his friend. Bittle rolled his eyes and waved his hand dismissively.

             “I’m just a little rusty is all. You wouldn’t believe how easy it is to get sloppy when you’re out of practice.”

             “That move you were doing looked pretty hard.”

             “Oh, it is. Get it wrong and you just fall flat on your face… as you basically just saw. 

             There was an awkward laugh before the two of them fell silent. Jack could tell that his teammate was embarrassed. He would be too if the same had happened to him. Still, there had to be some way to break the tension.

             He wasn’t sure where the question came from but it had flown out of his mouth too quick for him to catch.

             “Why did you stop?”

             Bittle was obviously confused. 

             “I did just fall on my face. Kind of hard to finish a routine after that.”

             Jack shook his head.

            “Not the routine. Figure skating.” Bittle’s face turned beet red yet again, for the second time today.  Jack could visibly see his shoulder’s tense up as his eyes darted around the vast expanse of the rink. He swallowed hard before answering.

             “I guess I just… didn’t want to anymore?”

             “… That sounded a lot like a question.”

             “It’s just…” The former figure skater scratched at the back of his neck, searching for the best way to put it. He took a deep breath and slowly started to relax his posture a little. His eyes locked with Jack’s.

              “Coach never liked it all that much. Mom doesn’t care. It doesn’t even cross her mind why she would ever need to. I guess it’s just that I was getting close to finishing school, and Coach wanted me to focus on my hockey more, it made it easier to find scholarships.” Bittle shrugged. “It seemed like the right time.”

            The air seemed colder than usual, forming misty puffs of air as they exhaled. Jack made a note to himself to ask a custodian to check the heating next time he saw one.

            “You know,” he began. “If you ever wanted to come out here and skate, I wouldn’t mind watching.”

            Bittle’s eyes went wide.

            “Oh! Uh… sure. That would be nice.” The southern boy’s smile was subtle but genuine.

            Jack’s pulse spiked suddenly, almost startling him and adding to the drastic change in his most basic biological function. His chest felt tight and empty and his mouth went dry. He could feel the blood rush to his cheeks as both him and Bittle continued to stare. He wanted nothing more in this moment than to open his mouth and say something. Anything. But every time, his brain refused to send the signal to his jaw or his lips, keeping him completely quiet.

             The distance between the two of them was almost nothing at this point. Not that it mattered—

             “I’d better get back,” Bittle spoke up, breaking eye contact. His tone was quiet and sheepish. “I don’t want to make my knee any worse than it needs to be.”

             “You’re sure you don’t need any help?”

             “Thanks, but I’ll be fine,” he chuckled, giving a small smile.

             Bittle left in silence, allowing Jack to think more clearly. And breathe. That seemed like a good thing to do right now.

              What the hell was that? When exactly did Bittle start making him so nervous? It didn’t make any sense. They had been spending so much time together. He would have thought, if anything, he’d be way more comfortable around him. He wasn’t hard to speak with, even if he wasn’t sure who the blonde was talking about half of the time. They had inside jokes, went to lunch. They had been making progress.

             There was a distant whistling sound in the back of his mind, growing louder every few seconds. His stomach was entirely unsettled and he could feel his palms begin to sweat.

             He could admit that things had gotten really personal back there, maybe even a little too personal, but he was still disappointed. He had hoped that they had reached the point where they could trust each other with that kind of information. That they had each other’s backs. That was the whole point of being teammates, wasn’t it? If you couldn’t trust each other out of the rink, how the hell were you going to manage it on the ice?

             The whistling seemed to echo up and away into the high ceiling, chugging forward faster than before. Jack kept a tight grip on his knees, waiting, lying across the tracks.

             Was this some kind of set back? He didn’t want things to revert to the way they were before. He liked being closer to Bittle. He felt like he could come out of his shell a little bit when they were together. There was just this aura that the boy radiated that lifted your spirit and tugged at the corners of your mouth. He smelled like pie and looked like sunshine and Jack was pretty sure that he had laughed more with him in the past month than he had the last four years. He hadn’t felt like this about someone in a really long time. When he was with Bittle, he was happy. When he was with Bittle, he felt like he was flying.

             The train’s engine made impact and that was when Jack knew.

             He liked Bitty.

             Jack’s blood froze. A minute ago, his heart was beating so fast he thought it would stop, but now it seemed he was having trouble getting it to start again. Breathing was also a no go. Again.

             This was a bad. This was a very bad.

             This was literally the last thing he needed. They had to play together. They had to go to class together. There was absolutely no way to avoid him. He wasn’t even sure he was strong enough to want to avoid him. He was too far-gone. Jack started to wonder if people were ever committed for this sort of thing. _Because if no_ t, he thought, _they should be._

             And on top of all of this, was that really how he was going to act around someone he was interested in? How old was he? Twelve?

             The almost irresistible urge to curl into a ball on the dirty floor washed over the French-Canadian. He settled for cradling his head in his hands instead.

             This attraction of his just came out of nowhere.

             Who kept pushing him out of his comfort zone? Bittle.

             Who forced him to relax and stop thinking so hard about everything? Bittle.

             Who took so much interest in his well being all of the time? Bittle.

             Wait.

             … _Was_ this a bad?

             Well great. Now Jack was just as confused as ever.

             He pulled his legs up onto the bench and laid his back flat against it.

             Maybe he was over exaggerating. Just a little. But relationships only ever complicated things for him. Especially when teammates were involved. He had every right to be worried.

            If something ever were to happen—and he wasn’t saying he wanted it to—then what? There was no way that he could come out. He wasn’t ready. Bittle would probably understand that, but still. Then how would they hide it from the others? Shitty would just know automatically, there was no doubt. Ransom and Holster could never leave well enough alone. It would be impossible. 

            And this was all under the assumption that Bittle like him back, which was totally unconfirmed at the current moment. It wouldn’t be a surprise. He was socially awkward and didn’t know the first thing about consciously flirting with people. They were friends. To expect anything more would just be selfish.

            Still.           

            He supposed it could be… nice. He had already established how much lighter and easier he was around the boy. It could end up being a really positive thing if he tried. They could go out for coffee and poke fun at each other and… basically do all the stuff they already did. And that didn’t actually sound all that bad.

             The sun streamed out of the surrounding windows, reflecting off the ice like a mirror and acting as a spotlight the dust floating above and around him. He sat up and sighed before standing and walking over to his dropped equipment. Bending down, he unzipped his bag and grabbed his skates. He sat down to pull them on and tighten the laces around his feet, finishing off with a well-executed double knot.

           He was fine. Everything was going to be fine.

           He lifted himself up as steadily as he could and moved onward to the border of the rink. Jack took a deep breath before stepping onto the ice.

           There was no question. He was fucked.

           But he was pretty sure he was okay with that. Probably.

**Author's Note:**

> It ended up being SUPER late but I think it was well worth it to get the best possible product out there, what with homework and general life getting in the way.
> 
> This fic is for wyntera, whose awesome art just seems to keep popping up everywhere I look! I hope you liked it!
> 
> The figure skating move that Bitty wipes out while doing is called an illusion spin. I suggest looking it up to see how insane it actually is. I asked one of my best friends, who is a figure skater, what would be a hard move to do that would also end up making you faceplant and this was her answer. I think it fits quite well. The whole rock solid knee thing is also from her. Trust me, I have felt it and I'm sure she could use it as a hammer it is so firm(it's actually really gross). 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and I really hope you enjoyed!


End file.
